Five Boroughs 01 - Sutphin Boulevard (20 page)

“Yeah,” he whispered, fucking my mouth with it faster. “You love sucking dick, don’t you?”

My answer came in the form of a sloppy humming sound. I could do nothing else as I undid my belt one-handed and stared at him from beneath my lashes. When he dragged the vibrator from between my lips and slid his own tongue along the length of it, molten lava filled my belly and tightened my nuts.

“Now get your clothes off and put it in your ass.”

You would have thought it would take more convincing, given the possible outcomes. A couple of months ago, the most physical we’d gotten was lying next to each other during a
Breaking Bad
marathon and eating off the same plate, but it took roughly ninety seconds for Nunzio to convince me to strip, lie on my back with my thighs spread wide, and screw myself while he watched. A few minutes later, he had taken over and was stabbing my prostate with the device set to full blast as I pumped my dick with the Fleshlight.

Covered in sweat and a boneless sack of trembling limbs, I surrendered to the violent urge lancing through me. I had to bite the knuckles on my free hand to keep quiet.

Nunzio hunched over me, fully clothed and panting. “Fuck it faster.”

I obeyed, sliding the lube-filled device over my cock, and bit my fist harder to muffle the groan that followed.

“Let me fucking hear you.”

I shook my head, nearly delirious from the constant buzz against my sweet spot, but did nothing to evade when he knocked my fist away from my mouth. The sounds I made could only be described as desperate, and far too loud considering the number of people downstairs, but I was far beyond caring.

Welling pressure and tingling in my balls struck me so suddenly that I yanked the Fleshlight off my dick with a wet sucking sound, and clamped my fist around the base of my shaft. “Wait. Fuck, fuck—
wait
.”

Nunzio’s hand stilled. He switched the device off and pulled it out, slow and gentle.

“Shit.” I bit my lip and shut my eyes. I didn’t want to come yet, but I was sure I’d bust as soon as I removed my fingers. After a long moment of guttered breathing, the oncoming orgasm receded.

I wrenched my eyes open and found Nunzio naked and clutching the thick column of his cock. It took only my heavy-lidded stare and a tiny smirk for him to get the message and shove his dick home.

No care was given to the sound of skin slapping skin, and with a buffer of two floors, music, and football, I decided it was acceptable to not even attempt muffling my hoarse groans. I couldn’t contain it and didn’t want to—if Nunzio wanted to watch and hear me be a slut, I’d give him enough material to jerk off to for the next six months.

And there was no denying that I wanted it. That I
needed
it. The feel of his sweat-slick body sliding against mine, and him stretching me open with an agonizing burn, triggered the part of me that wanted to be fucked until I couldn’t take it anymore.

I thought he would give it to me that way; pound me hard and fast until he filled me up with hot spurts of come that I craved with every nasty fiber of my being, but Nunzio slowed his movements when things got too frantic.

He dropped messy kisses on my stubble-covered cheek. “Shh,” he murmured. “Slow the hell down.”

I started to bare my teeth at him, but he grabbed a fistful of my hair and drew my mouth up to meet his. Nunzio said my name when he kissed me, a faint hint of syllables as I swallowed each of his breaths. It was too sweet, too gentle, and my heart stuttered in response.

I reached around to palm one of his asscheeks, urging him on, wanting the hard usage he’d given me moments ago, not the delicate brush of his lips.

“Nunzio, come on.”

“I wanna make it last,” he said.

He slid a hand between us to squeeze my sac, and laughed quietly against my sweaty face. Everything Nunzio did was so smooth, so deliberate and practiced, that I felt shameless and out of control in comparison. He could draw this out all night, and all I wanted was to be screwed until I was sobbing into the mattress and aching from the violation.

“Just come in me,” I said in a voice that Clive had never gotten to hear. “And then fuck me again later.”

Nunzio laughed again, his voice thick and low. “I love that you want my dick this bad.”

“Do it.” I clenched up around his cock, working it until his laughter was replaced by labored breathing.

“Shit,” Nunzio said and grabbed my throat with one hand while shoving my knee sideways with the other. He fucked me so hard I just clung to him and enjoyed the ride. When he came, it was abrupt and explosive, and the raw cry that tore out of his mouth was so loud that he had to press his face into my sweaty neck. But he kept pumping his hips and sliding his still-swollen dick in and out of me with decreasing speed.

“Jesus,” I whispered. “I want to come.”

Other words tried to formulate in my brain, but none had the chance before Nunzio pulled out and flipped me over. My ass was in the air, and the smooth, cool length of the massager was reinserted into my hole.

“Oh fuck, yes.”

I rode back on it like I’d been waiting for another dick all along. He jammed it into me hard, and by the time he activated the highest power, I was shaking. My mouth dropped open, but no sound came out. Between the repeated strokes of the vibrator against my prostate, and Nunzio reaching around to pump my straining cock, I blew my load with a blinding intensity that drained my balls of every drop of semen.

I collapsed. My lungs burned from the lack of oxygen.

Nunzio said something to me but it was an incomprehensible whisper. I was only aware of him stretching out beside me and pulling me close. He kissed the side of my neck, then my cheek, but my daze prevented me from reciprocating.

I was too destroyed to attempt to be anything other than dick addled in front my family, but even with that in mind, I made no effort to crawl out of the bed, or to ignore the ache in my abs and the throb of my abused ass.

If anyone walked in now, it would be a wrap. The room stank of sex, we were both naked and drenched in sweat, and parts of my body were reddened from Nunzio’s gripping hands. But I stayed wrapped up in his muscular arms because I didn’t care about family or holidays or anyone’s opinion anymore. I only cared about the warm contentment pooling inside me as Nunzio stroked my back.

“Spend the rest of the weekend with me,” he murmured.

There was no hesitation before I nodded.

December

“I’
LL
FUCKING
kill you, you gay piece of shit!”

My head jerked up so quickly that something popped. I searched the classroom for the perpetrator. Shawn was the usual suspect, but he had his headphones on despite my repeated demands for him to put them away. He was in his own world, ignoring his group and drawing in his notebook. So much for him catching up.

“Oh my God, relax.”

I turned from Shawn to Mac—the gay piece of shit in question—and Alex, the biggest asshole in all of my tenth grade classes. Besides Mac.

Putting them in the same group had been a strategic move; force them to make a bomb-ass presentation with their superior critical thinking skills and get over the bullshit that kept them at each other’s throats. It had gone well until now.

Walking around the kids who were not even pretending to be focused on preparing their presentations, I approached the cluster of tables where Mac and Alex were facing off. Mac was grinning at Alex, both palms planted on the desk, and leaning down. Their faces were inches apart.

Alex was crimson, and his eyes were so wide I could see the whites around them. Alarmed, I shouted, “Mackenzie!”

Alex’s nostrils flared. “Get this faggot away from me before I break his nose.”

“Do it,” Mac challenged. “Do it, pussy.”

I put a hand on Mac’s shoulder and pulled him back just as Alex leapt out of his seat. Next to him, his best friend Eric seemed torn between helping and going back to his project.

“Alex, take a walk. Mac, move away. Now.”

“Keep him away from me, or I’ll wreck him.”

Alex was breathing hard, his body tense and coiled for a fight. I had seen him in action before and had zero desire for him to flip out in my classroom. Especially when Mac was just as capable of getting crazy. He’d been responsible for instigating the “Ninth Grade Riot of the Gays” as Nunzio and I had dubbed it—a massive brawl between a dozen of the most out-and-proud gay boys in the middle of the hallway last year. It had been the worst fight in the school’s history and had ended with cops called and blood smeared all over the floors, with Mac at the center of it all, throwing punches and laughing like a hyena.

I shot Eric an impatient look. “Take your friend to get some water.”

“Uh….”

“Go!”

Eric stood up and hauled Alex to the door.

Shawn had glanced up to observe the confrontation and looked utterly unimpressed. The other kids whispered to each other until I gave them a sharp reminder that this was their final period to work on their presentations and there was only ten minutes left. I don’t know if it was the time constraint or my tone that got them to stop bullshitting, but they fell silent.

I brought Mac to the back of the room.

“What was that about?”

Mac smoothed a hand through his hair, lifting one shoulder in a move too elegant for a fifteen-year-old sociopath. “He’s just a little sensitive, okay?”

“Yeah, I got that part, but did you have to keep antagonizing him?”

“Mr. R….” Mac flashed a condescending smile. “I need to get back to my project.”

“No, you need to explain to me what the hell the problem is with you and Alex before I write up the both of you.”

“Me?” Mac held up a hand in protest. “Seriously? Did you
not
hear him calling me gay slurs?”

“I heard him, and believe me, he will be dealt with, but you can’t keep picking fights with him. At some point, it will happen while one of your teachers isn’t around to get in the middle, and then what are you going to do?”

“Get his ass kicked,” Shawn muttered loud enough for his deep voice to be heard across the room.

Mac flipped Shawn off and puckered his lips. “Shut your sexy ass up. Don’t even pretend you don’t love me.”

Shawn just shook his head and went back to his doodling. Mac continued to grin at him, not caring that we were in the middle of a tense conversation.

I clapped my hands to reclaim his attention. A little more contempt and the look he speared me with would have actually killed me.

“Oh my God, fine. I started telling Eric and Rosemarie that Alex came over my house to finish the project. That’s it, and it’s a free country so I can basically say whatever I want without being threatened.”

The pieces came together and my annoyance heightened. He had essentially disrupted class just to start some Alex-is-gay-for-me rumor. It was inevitable that Mac would end up in a world of trouble someday, but at least we had avoided it this time.

“You need to control your mouth, kid.”

“Oh please, Mister. My mouth has plenty of control. Just ask Shawn.”

I held out a hand to ward him away, wanting his leering face to be gone from my sight. “Go away. Please.”

“You’re welcome for the visual!”

I continued to hold out my hand, cringing in horror and trying to mentally bleach my brain. The bell rang before Mac could say any other horrifying things, and the sound just added to my growing headache.

I was so disgusted that I forgot to assign their homework before they ran out of the room. I had never understood why kids acted like their next period class was an exciting destination. Maybe they were just that thrilled to be out of history class.

Collapsing into a chair, I looked around but couldn’t muster the energy to put away their strewn supplies. It was the week before Christmas break, and I’d deliberately planned a long project complete with two days of presentations, but the kids were still more unruly than usual. I didn’t know why holidays turned the students into little monsters, but it happened every year without fail.

I sat there zoning out and staring at still-open laptops and folders of research lying on the cluster of desks until Nunzio walked into the room holding two paper cups. I jerked my chin at the door, and he shut it behind him.

“’Sup, boo.”

“Please never call me that again.”

“Why not?”

Nunzio crossed the room and handed me a cup. I took a sip and smiled. Hot chocolate.

“Thanks.”

“Not a problem. It’s an excuse to see your morose face. I’m having a horrific day, and my grade team leader is riding my fucking ass. I think she knows I’m keeping track of reasons to quit, and she wants to push me over the edge.”

“Maria is just an asshole to everyone. Pay her no mind.”

“Easy for you to say. Your team leader is a piece of ass who is terrified of you. I get told I’m a shitty SpEd teacher because I’m not nurturing enough.”

“Damn. I’m sorry, niño.”

“It’s whatever at this point.” Nunzio sat on the edge of a desk and removed his own cup from the carton.

The sound of shouting teenagers, ineffective commands from the deans, and running footsteps filtered through the door. Sometimes it seemed like I worked at an elementary school instead of a high school for all the self-control they had. I tried to tune it out and studied Nunzio. He was the only person I knew who could look edible in a pair of jeans and a black sweater.

“I haven’t seen you much lately,” he said.

“You see me every day.”

“Yeah, here, but we haven’t hung out besides work for a while.”

I rotated the cup in my hands, dragging my thumbs against the sides. Examining the lid was preferable to starting the conversation I’d been running through my head for the past several weeks. Since I’d spent Thanksgiving weekend locked up in his apartment being turned out six ways to the 22nd century. Four days of nonstop sex, nonstop kissing, touching, and playing house, and I’d felt myself falling so quickly down the rabbit hole that panic had swept in to dampen the constant burn of lust.